Midnight Craving
by FeverishDreams
Summary: This is an encounter between Sheamus and myself that makes me see him in a whole new light.


On the first night my barely interested chocolate brown eyes noticed the mysterious man on Monday Night Raw, I wondered if finding something else to watch for a bit might have been a better choice. Changing the channel became a practice normally reserved for matches that my favorite Divas Beth Phoenix, Layla, Nattie, and Serena weren't involved in. On this particular night, John Cena wasted time in the ring teasing a tall, pasty-white jar of mayonnaise with a ketchup haircut. His intended target was livid about the nickname the Champ chose for him while the fans erupted into laughter encouraged by another Creative `failure`. My laughter quickly began and I didn't understand how anyone could take a joke so seriously. The man known as The Celtic Warrior mentioned a beating and I wondered how long it would take for chaos to break out. "Mr. Ziggles" happened to be the last phrase that got me chanting but hopefully this jar of mayonnaise tease would catch on. Mr. Cena`s choice of words happened to be a skin color joke and it wasn't right to laugh but my reaction couldn't be stopped. According to an Avenue Q Broadway song everyone is a bit racist which seems to put us all in the same situation. Sheamus` skin tone reminded me of the paper inside the spiral-bound journal that I used to record my deepest feelings. No time was left to realize how memorable but corny John Cena`s humor would be – at least to the fans. Raw moved to another segment in the blink of an eye. Both Raw and SmackDown had a habit of mixing pieces together that didn't add fire to the current feuds or encourage fan purchases of the next PPV. It made for engaging television if a person could keep all the stories in order. For once, all I needed was for a good storyline to continue.

Shortly after I glimpsed the image of the fiery-coiffed warrior that now unfortunately graced the broadcast of each Monday Night Raw, infuriation became my only emotion. How could someone ruin a proper goodbye to Shawn Michaels etching the details of a final farewell in my mind with the addition of a senseless attack? Hunter wanted to kindle more emotion around the retirement because The Showstopper had not only stolen the show, but also The Cerebral Assassin's heart. While this idea was foolish, slash circles discussed the possibility of Shawter love for years. All the younger man had wanted to do was give his friend a proper send off when a steel pipe to the back of the head from Mr. Predictable made his target lose his words…and his state of consciousness. Trips should have brought a sledgehammer to a steel pipe fight but there had been no warning signs. When confronted with this chain of events, the thought of seeing Sheamus out in public sickened me. I knew that the attack had been part of the storyline but it couldn't be forgotten. Hoping that Hunter might give the foolish but headstrong youngster a beating would bring a satisfying end to the rivalry. WWE Creative had another idea and decided to take The Game out of the picture. However, the promos were successful to me because an angry HHH always seemed to be an appealing Hunter…most of the time. Watching those two men argue brought me back to March 2009 just before WrestleMania 25 when Randy became Hunter's intended target.

My luck changed when a live Raw show would to be coming to a stadium in a nearby town and there was a chance that I might be able to attend. I had graced the audience of two shows before but Raw`s card had been boring. It was like the fans didn't even matter to them. Getting paid was the only good benefit. Shawn retired a couple of months ago. Unfortunately, Hunter found himself on the disabled list at the hands of Sheamus occurring at the Extreme Rules PPV. Seeing hot male bodies wasn't the only reason why I chose to purchase tickets...but it did top my list of reasons. Maybe if I could get to the show, I could ask the new champion about the motive. Hunter's attack was scripted but a shred of dignity must have been present in the heartless man that had placed one of the Superstars I admired on the disabled list. Due to sheer patience, a seat in the middle of fourth row ringside and the one to the left of it were mine because I had stayed for 30 minutes with my left ear pressed against the receiver to get them. The woman on the other end of the line yelled at me to be quiet because I screamed while holding the receiver too close to my mouth. Keeping my excitement from escaping hadn't been easy. My seat faced the ring so I wouldn't have to stare at everyone's ass the whole time. Give me John Morrison, John Cena, and Chris Jericho so that constant staring wouldn't be so horrific.

On the afternoon of the show, security mingled with the `regular` people but the guards were interested in other fans instead of me. I had only felt mildly claustrophobic while fans packed themselves in like sardines in poorly formed lines in front of the merchandise tables. Purchasing an Edge t-shirt suddenly required more patience than I was ready to deliver. After 20 minutes of waiting in line, I decided against getting the item I could live without and let my spot go to a pair of ten-year-old twin girls lusting over Evan Bourne's abs. Their senseless chatter interested me but with an hour to burn before the show began, I wondered how long I could tolerate excessive giggling. Attacking children was frowned upon these days but I felt like a good smack might put them in their place. Plus, the young man's back I gently pressed my whole body into became less comfortable than it had previously been. That method was no way to make a proper introduction. After a couple of glances over my shoulder to see if any guards weren't distracted, I disappeared down a restricted hallway hoping that my sandals wouldn't announce my intended plans. Someone would have to tell my friend Julie that I went missing. Every once in a while, a `good` girl had to take refuge in the safety that evil might be able to provide.

Further away from the chaos, I was able to take a couple of deep breaths while considering what my next move would be. The idea of going back to where everyone milled around like a colony of ants didn't even cross my mind. All of a sudden, unexpected male voices startled me and I quickly found a hiding spot. My chosen hiding place behind a forgotten black speaker worked because the men who strolled down the hall together, talking and laughing, didn't even notice me crouched down. Heath and Justin were too concerned about how their matches might go to be focused on a first-time intruder. As they walked into their dressing room, I wondered what would go on between the two when the door shut. WWE had so many implied slashy undertones these days that I could never understand the proper order of things when it came to romance. Not every touch was meant to be homosexual but I found it hard not to muse about those types of relationships. My creative mind, like countless minds before mine, worked in mysterious ways to force the world to be a slave to unspoken desires. I turned the knob and let the heavy door announce my entrance with a creak as I stepped into the `deserted` location. There wasn't even enough time to find out if anyone else was in the room…a quick choice needed to be made.

My immediate thoughts were focused on getting away from wherever I had found myself before a curious onlooker managed to blow my cover. Careless steps had led me straight into the dressing room of a Superstar I only `knew` from television. A normal person might have seen a locker room but to the one who used this room tonight it became a place to hang out and live the best that he or she could. As soon as the security guards found me, no amount of begging would prevent them from pushing me towards the nearest exit. I knew that they wouldn't accept the lie that I had gotten lost trying to find the bathrooms. It was obvious for anyone who had met me that I sometimes called myself a super fan. However, I never went looking for trouble or a quick solution to find my way into the arms of an innocent WWE male Superstar. Curiosity and my desire to obtain an autograph were going to `kill` my chances of ever getting into a show again. Fame might even come to me…even if it was only getting my name mentioned in conversations as the person who attacked a Superstar in his or her dressing room. No matter how foolish my actions were, I would be a bit more famous.

Before I could even begin to make my escape, Sheamus left the `safety` of the brightly lit bathroom wearing a black dress shirt with little cream buttons, a pair of loose gray dress pants secured with a thin black leather belt, and a pair of black dress shoes – an outfit that made him even sexier. It was so unusual to see him wearing something so dressy knowing that wrestling trunks and boots along with the occasional shirt the company wanted fans to buy was the norm. When he leaned in close to press his body against mine the scents of Irish Spring body wash and Got2B hair gel mingled in the air. I had seen his ginger hair smoothed down and under a hat in pictures and I knew that this gravity defying style made him look wilder. For a moment, I thought of Carlito`s hair and wondered if The Celtic Warrior ever could ever have hair that soft. A mischievous smirk lit up his features and I knew from the beginning that this escape wouldn't be as easy as planned. Just as I was about to place my hand on the silver doorknob, Stephen slid his arms around my waist and forced me to turn around so that we were facing each other.

When we were both locked in behind the heavy black door, I could see from the inquiring shimmer in his steely gray eyes that my captor's first goal was not `catch and release`. My wrists burned slightly from the pressure received while he continued to hold my arms above my head and on either side of my ears. At 140 pounds, I was much lighter than him but still ready to fight. Being 5'4" tall made his 6'6" size monstrous and if he wanted to consume me, I'd be nothing more than a morsel. Stephen cocked his head to the left for a moment and relaxed his stance along with the tight grip. He made me smile nervously when whispered words concerning how lucky he had been to receive such a captivating intruder brushed by my ears. Dark chocolate brown eyes, my very own, burned with fire. By pinning my arms in this way he held me against my will. I wanted to scream but when I tried, no sound came out except for a squeak. Burly security officials weren't going to catch onto supposed intentions if silence became my only weapon.

Stephen couldn't keep his intent gaze from straying to the voluptuous prize and I had no idea why he wanted to look without even realizing the consequences of his actions. As King of the Ring, the man who kept me prisoner was paid to be in front of the fans that had tickets to see him in the flesh. Driven by a fiery spirit, he didn't seem put off with the ideas that boos and jeers would be mostly directed at him. By the way he took on every challenge with the same take-charge attitude, nothing so superficial could ever bother The Celtic Warrior. I'd be bothered by the negative comments and heat that he was getting but my feelings were much different. Judging from the care and attention that he put into his outfit, his only desire had been to make the ladies jealous because they picked another man as their favorite. Across the room in the middle of a honey oak bench, a forest green robe with cream ermine fur at the hem and around the collar had been tossed unevenly over the width of the bench.

Inquiring about whether he would be making an appearance this afternoon, Stephen cleverly countered with the line that if he glimpsed another hint of my skin he'd have to reveal some skin of his own. My lilac v-neck knit cap-sleeved tee with thin black daisy-print lace around the armholes and collar seemed to be displaying the right amount of cleavage and was tight enough to show off my curves. The pair of black mid-calf denim capris I wore, with a bit of spandex added into the fabric, hid parts of my body he may have been dying to see. The black leather thong sandals added nothing to my height but at least they were comfortable. I would need to remove `clumsy` items if this encounter progressed. Cherry was my dominant scent from the body wash used in the shower taken before the show and my reddish brown messy pixie cut shone in the fluorescent lights of the locker room. I wore this outfit to impress others but at the moment I only cared if he saw. No one had ever called me captivating before…those sensual Irish words told the whole story.

When he leaned in to kiss me I turned my head to the left not desiring any special treatment. Stephen whispered foolishly that I'd have to try harder and released my wrists from his iron grip. As the pain began to disappear, I focused on the constant throbbing and not the fact that I had began to lose my personal space. My arms fell to my sides but they didn't stay there for long. Before I could prepare myself, pale white palms were gently placed against both of my cheeks. Realizing what might happen my first thought had been to knee him in the crotch. Take him down with the only desperate move I could imagine. However, the romantic side of me wanted the damned kiss to happen so like a fool I didn't move. I'd never been in a fantasy with an Irish dreamboat before so I added this moment to the mental list of things that should have never happened to me.

A little cry of protest burst forth from my occupied lips and no one except for us had heard. The kiss was warm and tender as Stephen eased his body against mine, encouraging silently to wrap my arms around his waist. While we were kissing, I found my hands moving to a place where they shouldn't be. The reason why I had placed my palms flat against his stomach bothered me but at least he knew I wasn't bashful. Within moments, my fingers were expertly unbuttoning those tiny buttons until his whole upper body became exposed. The hint of gray elastic from a pair of boxers peeked out above the waistband of his pants causing me to realize that another layer of wrapping existed on my `present`. I forced him to release a little grunt after my roving hands slid up his perfectly formed six-pack abs and up to his pectorals. For some reason, my hands always seemed a little chilly and when I decided to gingerly pinch his nipples in between my right thumb and index finger, it was an automatic reaction. My innocent vision took in every inch of that hard body and for the moment, I knew this wonderland was not just his, but mine. Another woman may have him in the future but he became my plaything for now.

Before the inevitable could be passed up, Stephen took his hands and placed them against the front of my thighs. He rubbed his hands roughly up until his fingertips reached the waistband of my capris. Our eyes met and I could clearly see the "I'm going to drive you wild" look that had never been displayed on once displeased features. Watching my every move while I stroked each individual abdominal muscle, Stephen unbuttoned the silver button that prevented him from entering where he wasn't allowed to be. I told him no sharply saying that he didn't have any business touching forbidden parts but he just laughed and leaned in to softly drag his bottom lip up the right side of my neck. Like a snake, his right hand slid down the front of my capris and down beneath my black lace underwear. The shivers began to start and I shifted from one foot to the other trying not to be too pleased as he cupped his hand against my pussy. A carefree giggle escaped from my lips and I could see the amusement dancing in his eyes when my curly pubic hair tickled his fingers.

Taking my eyes off him was difficult because his lustful gaze burned into me making it impossible to focus on the once easy task. Every time I tried to get my hands around his waist, the tip of his thumb would bump against my clitoris, causing me to shiver all over. Finally, after three minutes of fighting with Mr. Chastity Belt, I grabbed a hold of the silver belt buckle and forced it open. For a moment he let go of me removing his finger temporarily. As I pulled down on the silver zipper I could feel the beginnings of an erection struggling to escape. Remaining in control, I ghosted my right hand over the surface of the front of his sky blue silk boxers. Stephen was in pain and from the expression on his face; action to relieve his erection had to be taken quickly. My gasp startled him when I decided to unbutton the fly so that the `snake` could be released. He `showed` from the first moment I saw him and I know that his fingers felt my clitoris quiver when my dirty mind began to play tricks.

I fanned myself with my hands and suddenly felt faint and tingly all at the same time. Stephen watched me like a hawk would its prey as I fell to my knees in front of him, worshiping the sacred image with almost greedy eyes gleaming brightly. Before I could even begin my `attack`, he sat down on an unfolded black steel chair that looked like one that might be used later tonight if John needed an incentive to leave the King alone. He didn't take his eager eyesight off of me while I slowly peeled my shirt off so that it could fall to the floor on the right side. I helped him remove his shirt next while leaning in close so that there would be a chance those hopefully nimble fingers would unhook my bra. The dress shirt had been next leaving Stephen bare-chested and more inviting than before. My bra went on the top of the pile so that if anyone entered the room, I'd be able to put it on quickly. Our clothes were pushed a little bit further away with the toe of his shoe when I mentioned in a seductive whisper that we were both going to get a little wet. He picked up my purse when I asked him so that I could get a small plastic bottle of watermelon lube that had mysteriously appeared beside a tube of blue-tinted raspberry lip balm.

When I pressed the front of my shins as close to my ass as they would go, he spread his legs a little bit wider so that I would have enough room to maneuver while I went down on him. I reached out my right hand and gently slid it around his cock feeling his semi-erect length getting firmer in my palm. Being this close to a man was an action that I hadn't considered in some time. Thinking he was getting orally stimulated, he impatiently demanded that I devour his cock before other actions had to be taken. Men could be so careless and vindictive when it came to the act of foreplay. All they wanted to do sometimes was stick it in a hole and remove as soon as they deposited the `reward`. Guys never truly appreciated the thought that women such as myself put into sex. I mentioned that I wouldn't be doing anything to him if that tone was used and Stephen clearly didn't want to go out to the ring with a `tent` pitched in his trousers. Someone needed to be taught a lesson about how to be controlled and I knew I was the right person to teach him.

I ignored his bitter tone and took control once more demanding that some of the lube be poured over my chest. With a wicked smile, he flipped open the cap and squeezed harder than he should have. I couldn't stop myself from giving his chest a quite painful backhand when a couple drops of the slippery lube found its way to the bottom of my chin. The childish nature he had fought to keep inside allowed him to place rough fingertips in the spring green tinted lube to begin swirling it around in gentle circles around my nipples. When he least expected it, I leaned in close, rubbed up against his chest, and then sat back down. Our embrace sent lube in all directions and as our eyes locked, I could tell that Stephen wasn't the only one who wanted to go further. How the lust decided to linger in my eyes I didn't have a clue.

He left my side for a moment and effortlessly walked over to the bench to pick up the robe. Spreading the plush robe evenly out directly in front of the bench, Stephen playfully crooked his finger a couple of times encouraging me to come closer. I obeyed absentmindedly and soon sat cross-legged on the robe before him. He joined me a couple of moments later with the vocal wish emerging that his cock would stay erect. Slowly sliding off my capris and underwear seemed to do the job and I soon found him close to me shortly after I lay down `sinking` into the robe's material. My captor slid on a condom before he decided to penetrate me but I didn't even mind. Penetration widened my pussy quicker than expected and I responded to the attention with a pleased moan. His first thrust, deep and steady, made my hips push back into his gently because I wanted to be closer. Locked in a loving embrace, we spooned even tighter and I let out an uninhibited whimper. Every inch of him was felt all the way into my lower belly even though I knew he couldn't reach that far. I massaged my lower stomach wishing that the tingles would go away but they just kept coming.

As footsteps passed the door five minutes later, Stephen grunted with his thrust and quickly stuck a hand over my mouth just as I whispered to go faster. The heavy footsteps stopped in front of the door and a knock came soon after. Stephen's response to the curious onlooker was tense and I knew that Mr. Barrett would have been attacked if he had been able to get the door unlocked. A gentle elbow to the left pectoral made him release his hand from where it had once been. To keep me quiet, Stephen gently eased me a little bit closer so that my back rested against his chest so that his thrusts would stop. There was a drawn out relieved sigh as my muscles pulsed against him, preventing any movement. Almost innocently, the man I was with encouraged Wade that he didn't hear any strange noises coming from the dressing room.

When Mr. Barrett was suitably satisfied with the silence in the room, Stephen continued his onslaught while leaving rough kisses up the back of my neck. I rubbed the inside of my upper thighs trying to rid myself of the tingles that were beginning to ignite the skin's surface. When I looked back so that I could see how he was doing, all I noticed was concentration along with that look brimming with lust. As I was rubbing up, his large mitts joined mine. It felt a little weird knowing that someone was controlling the motions that I was trying to make but a steady rhythm became noticeable. His hands spread almost the whole width of my thighs but that fact was soon lost in the tingles that I couldn't prevent. He soon found that rubbing my clitoris while he thrusted deep inside me. For a couple of moments, I was able to hold back the excitement but a rub that wasn`t expected sent me over the edge.

Pressing my hips back into his made me cry out in pleasure as my ejaculation dripped down the left side of my inner thigh. When Stephen felt the wetness against his reddened skin he smiled wickedly and held me close. In a couple of moments he came actually letting himself shiver as his cock filled the tip of the condom with cum. He shivered constantly as he withdrew from a place that had once been warm and cozy. We lay there for a couple of moments facing each other wondering how we could have done such a thing. I wanted to hold him but I knew that I couldn`t do it unless he wanted me to. Putting his left arm around me, my captor brought me closer to him and offered a sweet smile. He then told me that our experience had been nothing short of amazing but that I could tell no one of our encounter. As I kissed his lips tenderly, I promised that our union would remain secret as he planned.

I found my way back to my seat shortly after the first match between Justin and Daniel Bryan had started. Julie had wanted to send a search party out for me but she was happy just to have me by her side again. When Sheamus came out to talk with John Morrison 30 minutes later, exhaustion seemed to be in his voice. Wrapped in the robe where we had made love created more opportunities for sleep. Booing started beside me but with a gentle touch applied to my friend's left forearm, the young woman paused to give me a dumbfounded look. It didn't take her long to notice the momentary glance from the Celtic Warrior directed at me, dripping with reckless abandon. When she tried to get me to explain I avoided her and watched John. That man getting angry made my dreams come true.

The sound of the alarm clock blaring beside me on the nightstand was both a savior and a curse for my frazzled nerves. Turning over onto my back caused my sore body to ache even more. Waking up had never been so wrong. My eyes, for the moment barely open, stared at the time – 1:25 a.m. In my rush to get proper rest the alarm had been set for nighttime hours. Ridding the sleep from my body would have to take a little longer than my planned 10:30 a.m. time.

As soon as the alarm was shut off I slid back under the covers after turning on the lamp in order to let the warm glow soothe me. The bed was clearly mine with its lilac cotton sheets and black headboard. When I lifted up the blankets and sleepily glanced down my worry began to disappear. Yes, this was my curvy body clothed in a matching sky blue silk camisole and knee-length sky blue silk shorts with little black dots covering the fabric. Beads of sweat made my body shiver wildly as the cold air of my haven cooled the environment. Somehow the mind playing tricks on me couldn't have been my own. A man I never allowed in my dreams had intruded into a place forbidden to him. Sheamus had touched my heart, tempted my senses, let me experience his body in a way I never imagined possible, and it made me physically sick. A place normally reserved for men like Drew McIntyre and Shawn Michaels had been destroyed.

I inhaled a couple of quick breaths and sensed my heart skip a couple of beats knowing that the x-rated images were still caught in the web of lies that seemed to be the only thing that my mind could create. Not once in my young life had I desired to be controlled but for an unknown reason lust had become the only remedy. While we were locked together in that dressing room I was shown a side of Sheamus that I never prepared for. In my dream, Stephen wasted no time pleasing me. He remained with `gun at the ready` for as long as I needed. Gentle were the touches and brushes of his hand against my skin. Malice wasn't the only job that these mitts were capable of. Whispered words, full of desire, intruded my thoughts. How could a man who made domination and superiority his only goals be so sensitive to the needs of another person?

My stomach growled bringing me back to reality. After that imaginary encounter was complete all my body wanted to do was replenish lost calories that shouldn't have gone anywhere. Lifting the blankets up and away from my body, I sat up with a bit of difficulty soon swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. While I made my decision over what to choose, I remembered not to whip up a second bowl of tortilla chips, peach and mango salsa, and mozzarella cheese. That combination was what got me into this `mess` in the first place. All of a sudden, my ears heard running water – a sound not heard unless I was up. It might have been left on before I went to bed but I was one of the most energy-efficient people that I knew so that couldn`t be the reason.

Before I could decide what action to take the sky blue painted door swung open. Stephen stood in front of me with a black towel around his waist secured with a loose knot on the left side. The hot steam escaping from the bathroom carried the scents of Irish Spring and his own sweat – two scents I knew so well. His wet body was now slippery and dripping with beads of water. If I tried to mesmerize him with my touch, my hands would end up feeling like baby oil was oozing from my pores. My seducer stepped closer leaving wet footprints on the floor letting lust and not bravery become the dominant emotion. I forced my eyes to close but when I did, he had gotten even closer…so close that I could feel his wet palms on the top of my bare shoulders. All I heard before he kissed me were the seductive words of "Aren`t I what you wanted for Christmas?"


End file.
